Career Move
by Cypher
Summary: Normally, the military avoided actually going into the scientist’s domain, but John was an exception, one that most of the scientists accepted because of his brilliance. Mensa!verse AU, spoilers for latest seasons of SG1, SGA


**Title:** Career Move  
**Author:** Cypher  
**Fandom:** Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG1  
**Main Character(s):** John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Aiden Ford  
**Warnings:** Spoilers for McKay and Mrs. Miller, Mobius  
**Rating:** Mature (R)  
**Summary:** _Normally, the military avoided actually going into the scientist's domain, but John was an exception, one that most of the scientists accepted because of his brilliance. It made him a bit of a pariah among his peers, but he'd only joined the Air Force to fly, and nothing else. Flying and math, those were his passions, and if it meant he wasn't totally accepted in one or both worlds, he was more than comfortable with that._  
**Word Count:** 3700  
**Author's Notes:** This is my Christmas fic to forcryinoutloud. Mensa!verse Mobius! Yup, an AU of an AU. Briefly betaed, but mostly an experiment in fun. Enjoy!

* * *

"Captain! Aren't you a little lost?"

Captain John Sheppard turned a narrow gaze to the Lieutenant, one who was obviously new to the SGC. "Are you questioning a superior officer?" His voice held just enough menace to make the young man stand at attention.

"Sir, no sir."

"Good." John didn't even bother dismissing the man, just continued into the lab. Normally, the military avoided actually going into the scientist's domain, but John was an exception, one that most of the scientists accepted because of his brilliance. It made him a bit of a pariah among his peers, but he'd only joined the Air Force to fly, and nothing else. Flying and math, those were his passions, and if it meant he wasn't totally accepted in one or both worlds, he was more than comfortable with that.

Turning into his private lab, he stumbled when he found his whiteboards marked up with red pen (he used black, never any other color). His equations, over three weeks of work, were half-erased, with other numbers scribbled in, completely changing his proofs. For an instant, he thought someone had sabotaged him, then he spotted the leather-covered broad shoulders in the other corner of the room. The man had his back to John, but he could see the hand holding the offending weapon that had destroyed his work.

Infuriated, he stormed forward, eyes flickering from the whiteboard to the stranger. Less than a foot away, he stumbled again, and his hand froze a few inches above the man's shoulder. Through the red haze, his mind had finally processed the changes the stranger had made, and realized the equations weren't ruined, they were better, improved. Proofs he'd been struggling with for days were now solved, and his mind was making the connections as the larger implications of his work began to register.

A strangled squeak escaped his throat, which was enough to alert the stranger and made him turn around. He wasn't, John noticed, startled or even surprised; nor was he in uniform. He was wearing black BDUs, a blue shirt beneath the leather jacket, and a pair of sunglasses were resting on his forehead. He had short hair, stunning blue eyes, and a crooked grin that made John very uncomfortable with feelings he'd long since buried. "Doctor Sheppard?" There was a slight accent to the voice, but John couldn't pinpoint where it came from. The grin spread as he shook the raised hand. "Rod McKay. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"I, uh," John looked at their hands, then abruptly pulled his away. "You…why did you…?"

Rod crossed his arms, eyebrows raising comically. "What? Come in here? Say hi?"

"The…the board--that can't be right!" John frowned, looking at a proof that shouldn't exist, but…it did cancel out a number of extra variables from the final product. "How did you-"

"Oh, Radek asked me to take a look at your work." He reached over his shoulder and tapped the board with the butt of the pen. "It's good. I don't think even Sam got this far on the energy calculations. As for how, well," Rod shrugged, "just intuition."

John felt his stomach plummet. This was it, he knew it. The SGC was tired of Captain Sheppard and his attitude and was replacing him with a better, more compliant version. Something must've shown on his face, because Rod's grin dimmed down some. "Hey, hey, don't worry. I'm just a consult, no one's going to replace you." The grin returned full force. "Especially you. Your Yang-Mills proof was groundbreaking, and that's coming from the guy who cracked Fermat's Last Theorem."

John openly gaped at Rod for a minute, then he recognized the name: two months ago a Rodney McKay had bumped every major article in all mathematics publications by definitively proving Fermat's Last Theorem. John had had wet dreams over those proofs, and here, in front of him, was the very man that had written it. Absently reaching to the side, he pulled his chair out and collapsed on it, still staring at Rod.

Rod's grin had vanished completely, and he set the pen down as he came forward, squatting so he was eye-level with John. "Are you okay? Are you having an asthma attack? Do you need me to get you anything?" His voice was soft, concerned.

John's mouth opened and shut as he tried to talk, and all he could finally manage was, "Oh god. You're…Rodney McKay. Rodney McKay. In my lab."

Rod blinked and sat back on his haunches. "Well, yes. Though call me Rod. Rodney is so formal." The grin began to creep back. "So I take it this means you're not upset I was working on your proof?"

"Are you kidding?! I'm…I'm honored! That you…in my lab…" He abruptly stood up. "Do you want a seat? Water? Coffee? Can I get you something? Anything? Food? Another pen? Oh! My good notepaper!" He dove across the room and started digging through his desk, searching for paper because if he didn't focus on something else he'd probably go down on his knees and offer Rod a blowjob right here and now.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder, and John stilled instantly, breathing harshly; almost panting. This was out of his fantasies--no, this must be a fantasy, and any minute he'd wake up achingly hard and half-asleep in his office. "How about," Rod's voice was near his ear, amused and soft and warm and John would be jerking off to it for weeks, "we go get something to eat. I haven't had breakfast yet."

"I," John licked his lips, reminded himself that he was a Captain in the United States Air Force and that Captain's voices didn't crack, ever. "I…breakfast sounds…good." He was a little hungry, all he'd had for breakfast was a power bar. And as much as he loved them, they were hardly substantial enough to last long.

"Great! Why don't you collect yourself, and I'll see you in the commissary, in five?" Rod patted his shoulder, and John suppressed a shiver.

John suddenly stood up. "I'm good!" He winced at how loud that had come out, and he cleared his throat, cheeks burning. "I'm ready to go now." Mirth was clear behind Rod's eyes, and John silently cursed himself for fawning over the genius like some lovesick teenager. He took a deep breath, clenched his fists, and forced himself to relax. "Really, I'm okay."

Rod chuckled and patted him on the back. "Alright. Come on, I think they still have orange juice."

John flinched and headed for the door. "I, uh, can't. Have orange juice. I'm allergic to citrus."

"Really?" Rod raised an eyebrow. "That's cool. My sister has the same condition. If you have a spare epi-pen, I'll hold onto it for you."

John fumbled with his pockets for a minute before pulling one out and handing it awkwardly to Rod. "Thanks."

Rod tucked the pen into his pocket and flashed a set of passing marines a grin as he pulled his sunglasses off and tucked one of its arms into his neckline. "No prob. So, why don't you tell me how you came up with your Yang-Mills proof."

John bit his lip and internally shouted in joy. Rod McKay was asking HIM about math. This was the best day of his life!

John couldn't keep it to himself, but he knew not everyone understood his obsession with math, or even why he liked scientists. He doubted anyone in the mountain would understand the excitement of having Rod McKay work here, except maybe Radek, and he didn't like to talk much. Still, there was one military man he could share just about everything with, so he went where he knew Captain Ford to be.

The firing range.

Sure enough, Aiden was just finishing up, returning his weapon and checking his score. John kept up his stern military appearance for the men around him, only raising his eyebrow when Aiden glanced at him. Without a word, the man fell into step with John, and together they exited, walking in silence until they got to their assigned quarters on base. "What's up, Shep," Aiden asked as he shut the door.

"Rodney McKay!" At Aiden's cross-eyed look, John waved his hands, trying to illustrate an equation, or maybe a flapping duck. "The…he solved Fermat's Last Theorem! He's the leading candidate on five of the seven Millennium Prize Problems! He's like, like, the guru of physics for the western world! He's a genius, and he's here!" John stood, grabbed Aiden's shoulders, and shook him lightly. "Here! He was in my lab and working on my equations, and he said they were good. MY equations! Good!" He stepped back and nervously paced in a small circle.

Aiden took a seat at the foot of the bed, his trademark teeth-revealing smile on his face. "Lemme guess, you're thrilled."

"This is a dream! I've wanted to meet Doctor McKay ever since I heard of him, but especially since Fermat! I just can't believe they got him!" John sat heavily on the edge of the bed. "And I can't believe I acted like such a dunce. One of the greatest men alive, and I acted like a…a…"

"Soldier?" Aiden laughed and slapped him on the back. "It's cool, man. I'm just glad you liked him, I was worried you'd be jealous of Rod."

John shot Ford a bewildered look. "You recruited him?"

"Rod? He was one of the founding members of the SGC, ever since they discovered the tape. They figured if anyone could figure out that spaceship, it was him." Aiden tilted his head. "You didn't know?"

"No, I…since the beginning? But…" John searched his memory, trying to recall Rod's face or form before today. "I haven't seen him."

"Well, that's because you've only been here a few months. They sent him away for training."

"Training?" John twisted around to look at his friend. "What does he need to be trained in?"

"Officer training. He's the head of research here, but we are a military operation."

A cold chill spread down John's spine. "But, I thought Doctor Zelenka-"

"He's Rod's 2IC, but still not military." Aiden's brow furrowed. "Are you afraid your job-"

"I…he said Zelenka had sent him-"

"Probably has. Rod just got back today and was checking up on all the new hires." Aiden glanced at his watch. "Hey, I've got a briefing…"

"What? Sure." John stared at his hands. "Just," he said as Aiden opened the door, "just, what's his rank?"

"According to the scuttlebutt, a Major. That's what the marines are putting on the banner, anyways."

"Banner?" His voice was absurdly soft.

"Oh yeah." Aiden stared off into space, grinning widely. "Man, that was a wild night. He got totally ripped, then he took the dare for the tattoo." He puffed out his chest. "Rod's an honorary marine."

John swallowed the lump growing in his throat. "Oh…"

"Don't worry, Shep. He won't count your soldier act against you. He was probably more amused than anything." Aiden waved a hand as he walked out. "Catch ya later!"

"Yeah," John said half-heartedly, "later."

John retreated to his lab to stare at the new equations Rodney had written on his boards, chin resting on his fists. It just figured his crazy aunt had been right: the truth really did destroy a wet dream. Rod wasn't just a genius, he was one of them, a military man. And he had let John go on like it had been Rod's first day at the SGC, in the mountain, even working for the military.

He'd spent the morning acting like an idiot. God only knew if Rod had picked up his crush, and if so how long did his career have? A day? A week? Or maybe Rod would just get rid of him, ship him off somewhere far and cold. There was talk of sending a scientist to Siberia to appease Russian inquiries. Or maybe Antarctica, he'd heard a research outpost was going to be built around where they found the Stargate.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the phone ringing. A few minutes later, he was out of his office and heading for the guest quarters. Major McKay, as the sergeant on the phone said, had requested his presence. So McKay had picked up on his attraction (nearly a decade in the Air Force, all ruined in one morning) and wasn't even letting him finish out the day. Well, he'd been shuffled around by bigger men than McKay, and he'd go out with his uniform straight and his head held high.

Stopping outside the quarters that McKay had turned into a temporary office, he spotted Major Lorne exiting, Rod giving him a high five as he left. "John! Good, come on in. Lorne, beer at five."

"You got it, doc!" The Major gave McKay a thumbs up, then turned to John. "Captain," the man was grinning smugly, and he walked past without another word. John always knew Lorne didn't like him, or his science-focused attitude. Just because the man had a Masters in geology--that wasn't even a real science, as far as John was concerned. Entering the office, he shut the door and stood at attention.

Rod's grin dipped, but didn't vanish. He'd taken off the leather jacket, leaving him in a tight blue t-shirt, the glasses still hanging absently by the neckline. "So, I wanted to tell you I enjoyed our time this morning. And I've looked over your work." He sat down on the couch against the wall, crossing one leg over the other, arms spread across the couch. "Have a seat."

"I'd prefer to stand, sir." John wasn't going to be sucked into a false sense of warmth, not when he knew what was coming.

McKay merely waved one hand lazily. "Call me Rod. The Major status is just to make the people in Washington happy."

"As you wish, sir."

Rod peered at him, then sighed. "John, sit."

"I'd rather-"

"Sit, Captain."

There it was, that hard-assed military man that he knew was beneath Rod's warm exterior. John took the nearest chair facing the couch and sat at attention.

"You can relax, you know."

"I am relaxed, sir."

Rod let out a frustrated sigh and looked upward, then shrugged. "Alright. After looking over your research, and talking with Radek and Evan, I'm afraid I have to give you a transfer."

John nodded. It was no less than he expected. "Where am I going, sir?"

"Two floors up and to the east." John felt a flash of confusion cross his face. "You know, the Gateship research lab?"

That was completely unexpected, and he blinked a few times. "Uh…the Gateship lab?"

"Well, whether or not you know it, you have a very powerful gene that I think would help us out more than where you are. Of course, if after a few weeks you want to go back to ZedPM research, that's no problem." Rod leaned forward, eyebrows arched, mouth curving downward. "Unless you'd really rather stay where you are, but I'd really like you to try and help us with the Gateship."

"I…I'm not leaving the SGC?"

Rodney frowned. "Not unless you really want to, but I think your talents would be wasted elsewhere."

"But, I thought," and all pretense of being the perfect soldier vanished from John, "after this morning, after the way I acted…"

Understanding washed over Rod's face, and he reached across to pat John's wrist. "You aren't the first scientist to have a case of hero worship. I don't count it against you."

"But," this was all very confusing. "I like you," he blurted out, then felt his face heat up, cursing silently.

Rodney's crooked grin returned. "You're not the first scientist to say that, either. I'm cool with it."

"But I'm a Captain." Why couldn't he keep his big mouth shut? He was just making it easier and easier for the disciplinary board.

"Not anymore. Well, you are and you aren't. I just finished the paperwork with the Major. You're a scientist first, and a Captain second."

"What? But you can't-"

Rod nodded. "I can, and did. John," this time, he grabbed John's hand and held it, "I'm a friend of the military as much as any of us, but you're wasted there. You're much more valuable to the program as a researcher, someone on my team."

Except John couldn't just give up being a soldier, and he pulled his hand away. "I didn't ask-"

"You didn't have to, John. Your record speaks for itself." John felt a fire in his chest, the kind that usually led to him yelling at his CO's. "Not to mention your actions. If you heard what the marines say about you-"

"So you just up and decide that the life I chose is wrong, and you'd fix it for me?!" John stood, fists clenched, but this time he was trying to control not taking a swing at McKay. "What gives you the right?!"

Rod stood up, holding up his hands, palms outward. "I'm sorry, sorry. I can cancel the orders."

"Good! You do that and…and…" John tried to form a coherent sentence, but his mind was contradicting itself. Studying the Gateship, working on ZedPM equations…he loved that. And he just told McKay to take that away, to leave him in the hands of the Air Force, who didn't understand his obsession with math. Blinking, he slowly sat back down and clasped his hands together.

"John?" Rod didn't approach him, but he did squat down. "If you want to be back under Lorne's command, I'll make it happen. Nothing will change. I just thought, both for the project and for you, you'd enjoy working under me."

"I would," John said quietly, "but I can't give up flying." He couldn't. It was so much a part of who he was.

"I'm not asking you too. The Gateship flies, but other than O'Neill and Lorne, neither of which enjoy working with scientists much, we don't have someone to conduct simulations. Except you." Now Rod approached, placing his hands on John's wrists. "You have the gene, you can help us run those simulations. If we get the General's permission, maybe even a test flight before they take it."

It sounded too good to be true. "And when they do take it? Then what? I just stay cooped up here?"

"When was the last time they had you fly?" Rod's voice was soft, but it was like a sucker punch, because John knew that other than the flight hours he needed to keep his license, he'd been grounded for almost a year. "I know, I've read your record. But you know something?" Rod's crooked grin started to form. "They've asked me to move to Area 51 and initiate a Gateship program to build our own."

Then Rod leaned forward, and John's heart began pounding. "And we're going to need test pilots, John." His breath was warm, and John felt himself shiver. "If you work for me, I can bring you. You can be my test pilot for Earth's very first Gateships. You'd be flying ships designed to go through wormholes, through atmospheres, through space."

John's breath hitched at that last, whispered word. "Space?"

Rod leaned back, still grinning. "Come on, John. I really think we'd be a good team. Just trust me."

It was such an invitation, and John couldn't help himself. He grabbed Rod's face and kissed him. Kissed Rod with a passion he hadn't felt since the first time he his virgin flight in a F-16. Repressed didn't even begin to describe how he felt, and now here was Rod, promising him a world of math and flight, a world where he'd fit in and be welcome. No sides to choose, no internal struggles, nothing.

Finally, as his lungs began to scream for oxygen, he pulled away, panting, still gripping Rod's face, thumbs stroking his temples. "I…oh god, I-" and then he was kissing Rod again, because this was Rodney McKay! And so what if he was a Major in the army, this was just too much temptation, and now he was hard, and then there was a hand in his hair. Running through it, ruffling it, gripping it, but not pushing him away.

Rodney McKay wanted him too. Rod wanted him. He groaned and pulled away, releasing Rod and shaking from the urge to get himself under control.

Rod was similarly red-faced, but grinning (and not panting at all, how was that fair, John wondered). "Guess that means you want to stay."

"Yes, yes, god yes." John continued shake, wondering how quickly he could leave and get to the nearest bathroom. No, wait, the private quarters had bathrooms, if he could just excuse himself-

Then Rod was kneeling in front of him, crooked mouth smirking, hands deftly pulling open his BDUs, and John let out a strangled cry as Rod gently licked his head. He was ready to come then and there, and the instant he felt the moist heat of Rod's mouth on him he exploding. A strong hand over his mouth muffled his cry, and he gripped the arm reflexively, not pulling it away, just hanging on as he felt Rod continue to dab at him with his tongue.

Minutes later, he was tucked back into his BDUs and he felt utterly boneless. Rod chuckled and patted his thigh. "Why don't you come over around eight. I should be rid of Lorne by then, and we'll continue our discussion on Yang-Mills."

Just the mere mention of discussing equations made John perk up, in more ways than one. "Really?"

Rod smirked, pushed himself up and gave John a salty kiss. "I'll be good for you, John. In so many ways." John nodded, prying himself out of the chair and stumbled for the door. "Oh, and John? Remember to clean out your lab today. Come Monday, you start work on the Gateship."

John nodded again, and he felt the lazy smirk from his youth return for the first time since he was eighteen. "You got it, Rod." This was the beginning of a very interesting career move. One, he suspected, that would have many intangible perks.

He totally couldn't wait to tell Aiden.


End file.
